


Maybe I just wanna be yours

by DauntlessSubconscious



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barista Rey, F/M, Musician Kylo, Prompt Fic, wickedlywonderfulweekofreylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DauntlessSubconscious/pseuds/DauntlessSubconscious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Finn asks her to cover his shift, Rey is reluctant. She can't stand the musical evenings of the coffee shop, but in the end, what are friends for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe I just wanna be yours

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!  
> Okay, fourth day of the Wickedly Wonderful Week of Reylo challenge.  
> Thursday's prompt: guitar pick.
> 
> Beta by the awesome rachel_greatest. Thank you so much, my friend!
> 
> My disclaimer stands, author remains being under the effect of meds for her cold.

She first sees him when he’s walking down the alley—guitar case hanging from his left shoulder, long strides and bad boy attitude—heading for the back entrance of the place. He’s eyeing her not so covertly and when he scrunches his nose, she thinks the gesture is directed to her outfit. It might just be her being self conscious about the scarce length of her skirt or the dreadful combination of teal and deep red; but in any case, it’s her uniform and she has no choice but to wear it. She scowls a moment longer in defiance and lights a cigarette but the staring contest ends when her phone shrills. 

“Hey, Finn, what’s up?”

“Hi, hun, how’s the scene over there?”

For a moment, Rey thinks her friend is joking. It’s a Friday night. The scene, as he so lightly puts it, is a goddamn madhouse, because since that article about the coffee shop hit the newspaper, it had become a trendy place overnight and weekends were the most feared shifts for the employees.

“How do you think it is,” she sighs, it’s been a long day and she’s exhausted. “I can’t wait to get home.”

“Yeah, about that...” Finn hesitates on the other side of the line. “I need to ask you a huge favor.”

She’s already wary, her friend sounding apologetic is usually trouble for her. “Okay…”

“Can you cover my half shift?” 

“Oh, no… Nope, nope, nope.” Rey shakes her head, but the emphasis is lost since she’s alone in the alley. “I’ve been here for eight hours, Finn.”

She doesn’t need to explain further, Finn knows better than anyone what that means. Since the owner started to include shows during the evenings, the crowds mostly consist in boisterous, young people and she’s in dire need for some quiet time.

“Please, I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important,” and Rey can almost see his puppy eyes in the pleading of his voice.

“Finn…” Her resolve is slowly melting away. “What’s so big that you can’t come, anyway?”

Finn’s demeanor changes completely as he explains—gushes, really—how this guy he has a crush on has finally noticed he exists and asked him out tonight, and of course he said yes, because declining hadn’t even crossed his mind and he’s so nice and attractive, Rey, you have no idea.

Rey caves, obviously, but that doesn’t mean this will cost him nothing. “Fine, but I get a Sunday off.” She always has to work on Sundays. “And I want blueberry muffins, homemade.”

“The real deal, gotcha, and yes, just name the day and I’ll cover you!”

Rey ends up smiling because she hasn’t heard Finn this excited in a while. “Okay, I gotta go inside, have fun, yeah?”

“Thank you so much! I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

She ends the call and takes a last drag of her cigarette before heading inside the building. Most of the tables are already full and the chatter is loud, she even sees a large group of over-excited women and she quickly gets why: one of them has a plastic tiara that reads “bride”; but while Rey will never understand the joy of throwing a bachelorette party over espresso and lattes, she just mentally shrugs, to each their own, she supposes. 

So this will be one of those nights... She goes to the back room, scavenges some ibuprofen from her purse and downs it without any water. By the time she’s back behind the counter, the crew is already hooking up all the wiring on the small platform set for evening performances and she sees the guy from the alley giving the rest of them some directives.

The line of people on the other side of the counter grows fast, everyone and their mother wants their order before the show begins.   
Rey could do this in her sleep if needed, she handles the orders dexterously while Jessica deals with the register. The thing is that Jess’ handwriting could easily pass for hieroglyphics. Seriously, she has seen more legible medical prescriptions than the names on these cups; which is why Rey does the most sensible thing and asks her partner to switch places. 

She uncaps her black sharpie, ready to clear that line as soon as possible. She knows she’ll be able to get a good fifteen minutes free once the show begins, but she tries hard not to think about the fact that she still has four additional hours to go.

“Hi, what can I get you,” she says in autopilot, without looking at the person in front of her.

“A caramel macchiato, heavy on the caramel,” the deep, male voice says and she lifts her gaze.

Ah, the artist for the evening. Well, she certainly hadn’t seen his sweet tooth coming. Dressed in all black, except for his white tee, he doesn’t really look the part. “Name?” She asks, trying to keep her lips from quirking upwards.

He stares for a moment and in this light, she can see his eyes aren’t as dark as she remembers from the alley. His irises resemble the color of the caramel syrup he apparently craves, but behind the softness of that golden gleam there’s something unrestrained and turbulent that makes her look away.

“Kylo,” he finally says. His eyes never leave her, she’s sure.

“Anything else?” 

She prefers to rest her eyes anywhere but on his, and that’s how she discovers that the man is attractive in an unconventional way. He’s tall but there’s no mistaking him for lanky, his chest is wide enough to dissipate any doubts about that. The leather jacket is covering his arms, but she suspects there’s lean muscle there. His hair frames his long, freckled face with wavy, dark locks that fall almost to his shoulders; yet if there’s anything in him as remotely characteristic as his eyes, it’s his lips. Her eyes linger on his mouth and she can’t help but think how sinful that pout looks on him.

“No, that’s all,” he says and it takes her an extra beat to realize he’s answering her question.

“Right,” she clears her throat. “That would be three dollars and eighty-four cents.”

Rey’s pretty sure she’s blushing, so she lowers her face and writes his name over the cup. When he moves away to let the next customer through, a breath escapes her.

Her relief is short-lived, though, because she has the recurrent gut feeling of being intensely observed and every time she looks up, his eyes are there, melding with hers. Perhaps, she should be more wary of his scrutiny, but she comes to the realization that she’s finding harder and harder to tear their gazes apart.

Just like she hadn’t imagined his preference for sweet coffee, his music is nothing like she expected. She forgets about that break she’d been meaning to take, diving instead into the slow tempo of his songs. Rey muses about his talent and relishes in the sight of him giving in, closing his eyes and feeling the impassioned lyrics that speak of a torrid affair. Those paint vivid images in her mind that have her biting her lower lip to the point of pain; but then, his eyes fix on hers, unwavering and intense, while his sinful lips caress the words—maybe I just wanna be yours—and she’s a goner.

She welcomes the chill of the evening breeze on her reddened cheeks while her brain debates whether or not she just made all that up, but she somehow suspects her imagination alone couldn’t conjure such tension.

“Can I have one of those?”

His voice startles her and when she turns, she sees his pointing to her pack of smokes. She frowns a bit, but extends her arm all the same. “Sure.”

“Thanks,” and his long fingers brush hers for a moment. “Long night?” 

“More like long day,” she huffs. “My shift is almost done anyway.”

He hums to that, seemingly pondering on the information.

“I really enjoyed your songs,” she says, partly because it’s true, but mostly because she doesn’t want the silence to become awkward.

He takes a step towards her. “Really?”

If Rey had thought his lips were wicked and unfair before, she’s not really sure how she can catalogue the smirk he’s giving her. 

Coherent reasoning is rapidly abandoning her, but she manages to smile back and nod. He takes another step and they are close enough to sense the heat from each other’s body. Her skin feels electrified with anticipation and somewhere in her head, a voice comments about the implications of her current position, but before that has the chance to become a full concept, his mouth is on hers. 

Seeing the fullness of his lips had been one thing—a decadent thing—but the sensation is a whole different experience. She tastes the caramel in his tongue when the kiss deepens as her hands bury in his hair, his arms surrounding her waist. The contact of their bodies drowns her in heady anticipation and she loses her sense of self when he bites her lower lip.

“Hey, Rey, what—oh, shit!”

Jessica’s voice is like a bucket of cold water. He lets her mouth free and his arms loosen, but remain around her. Kylo’s features twist into pure, unadulterated annoyance, but that loses effect if his mussed hair and swollen lips are taken into account.

“I—uhm, sorry… Come whenever you can, Rey—I mean, get inside… I mean,” Jess struggles with pointing towards the coffee shop. “...yeah.”

And with that, Jess is gone and Rey can’t help it, she chuckles. Who would’ve guessed that brave Jess could be daunted by a simple kiss? But then again, she wouldn’t tag that as a simple kiss.

When she looks at Kylo, he’s sporting a crooked smile of his own. He takes her sharpie and something from his pocket, scribbling on whatever that is. Rey’s distracted with how his lips curve around the marker’s cap, deciding that they will be her doom.

He slides the pen into her apron’s pocket and claims her lips again, only this time is more playful and regrettably shorter.

“Should I ask when you get off?” He says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Rey laughs and disentangles herself from the embrace. “See ya…”

Only when she’s inside and reaches for her marker to write down the name of the customer on the cup, she touches a foreign object. She bites her lip to keep the laugh from bubbling out of her while she holds his guitar pick where he wrote his number and call me soon.

She checks the time. She doesn’t really care if it qualifies as too soon, she gets off in half an hour.

**Author's Note:**

> The title and the phrase Kylo sings is from I wanna be yours by Arctic Monkeys. Personally, I love [this version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cy3das1WUMY) of the song 'cause it's sexy af!


End file.
